


A Night Out on the Town

by multitunes



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Accents, Alastor in Drag (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is too proud for his own good, Angel Dust in Drag (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bets & Wagers, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Crossdressing, Gen, Homophobic Language, Implied RadioDust, Misunderstood Innuendos, Niffty is a little darling, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pre-Slash, Protective Angel, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22012207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multitunes/pseuds/multitunes
Summary: "PCP does not turn a person into a cannibal or casual killer unless they were already prone to these violent behaviours."–VeryWellMind on the side-effects of Phencyclidine, aka. angel dustIn other words, Husk is a dirty poker dealer, and Angel's night out on the town with Alastor doesn't quite go as he expected.
Relationships: Alastor & Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 31
Kudos: 241





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame the RadioDust Discord for this fic.
> 
> After drawing a picture of Angel and Al in drag for the Dischord, I just had to write this fic. There's are heavy themes involved like drug use and non-con, however, there are no depictions of sex. I've never written sex before and I certainly won't start with a rape scene nor do I want to read or write graphic depictions of rape, so rape does not take place in this fic. There is, however, cannibalistic blood and gore. So read at your own risk if you are sensitive to these themes.

“I don’t know why they even want you at the gala when they’ve just been ignoring you all this time.”

Vaggie’s voice echoes through the empty halls of the hotel. It had recently received a complete renovation by their new business partner, but there had yet to be any more patrons than the promiscuous porn actor Angel Dust. Vaggie sat on a new plush couch in the lobby with her girlfriend Charlie who clutched a fancy handwritten letter.

“It’s just for appearances, Vaggie,” Charlie said. “If I’m not there, it’ll look bad to other demons.”

“Well, I’m coming with you,” Vaggie huffed as she crossed her arms in disgust. “There’s no way I’ll let you deal with those assholes alone.”

“Of course I’ll take you with me. Mom’s still on the fence about me dating a sinner, but dad finds it…” Charlie hesitated to describe her eccentric father’s feelings towards her girlfriend. “Funny,” she settled on after a moment, “so he said that I should bring you along…if not just to piss off the other demons.”

“We’ll just go to this stupid party and leave at a reasonable time before Angel or Alastor burn the hotel down.”

“Actually, Vags,” Charlie laughed nervously, “I have to stay the night at mom’s estate. We’re having brunch with the Von Eldrichs tomorrow.”

Vaggie gave out an exasperated groan. “Are you fucking serious?”

“I know, but you can come back to the hotel if you’re that worried–

“No way am I going to leave you alone to deal with that bitch Helsa and your freaky ex-boyfriend.”

“If I may intrude,” Alastor said after appearing suddenly behind Vaggie who startled and gave him a menacing glare. “I will be perfectly happy to watch the hotel while you both are away.”

“What are you planning,” Vaggie growled. 

“Nothing, darling. I am simply allowing you to act on your overprotective urges towards your dear Charlie.” He made a grand gesture towards the princess and hostess of the hotel before his ever-present smile grew with a mischievous twist. “Oh, how swell it will be when those Hell-born demons see a lowly sinner on the arm of Lucifer’s own daughter. I wish I could be there myself. Do tell me all the gory details when you get back.”

“Oh no, no gore!” Charlie whines. “They can all be respectable when they want to, and I won’t let anyone lay a finger on Vaggie. If they don’t like that she’s a sinner, they can wallow in their hatred in silence.”

“Oh,” Alastor said with a laugh, “this is a look I haven’t seen on you: standing up for your moll, hm? How exciting.” Charlie tucked her hands behind her back and gave her girlfriend a bashful look. Alastor knew that the princess held much more power than she presented, and found it remarkable how innocent she appeared in spite of it.

“All you want is chaos,” Vaggie sneered, “who’s to say you aren’t gonna drum up your own at the hotel while we’re away.”

“My dear, I wouldn’t dream of damaging the hotel nor its inhabitants. This little project is still fresh, and I’d very much like to see it through. Not a single soul has even gotten close to reaching that sliver hope that will inevitably slip from their desperate grasp. No no no! There’s no reason to end the fun before it has even begun!”

“Well,” Charlie replied tentatively, “if we’re going to be business partners of sorts, I’m going to have to trust you at some point, so consider this a test of confidence. Vaggie and I will be out for the evening and back tomorrow afternoon, and when we return, this hotel better be in the same condition we left it in and everyone accounted for and unharmed. A-and that’s an order! No deals.”

“Hmm, how responsible of you,” Alastor chided, “but as you wish. The hotel will be the same, and the residents all accounted for including all their limbs and internal organs.” Vaggie gives him a murderous look.

“Yup,” Charlie squeaked, “tha-that too. Nothing missing or out of place. Exactly as we left it!”

“Well, then. Carry on. I’m sure you have much to prepare. Have fun, ladies.”

...

Charlie and Vaggie spent much of the day packing for the night they would stay at Lilith’s estate. Vaggie couldn’t shake off the nerves she felt over allowing their business partner to watch over their pet project alone, but Charlie had gotten her girlfriend to smile over her enthusiastically choosing their attire for the evening. Once the two had left, Vaggie had quelled some of the fear she felt, and the two left with a wave towards their single patron and new hotel staff.

Niffty, as enthusiastic as she was, went on her merry way cleaning and tending the hotel, but the boys settled at the bar. It was a lazy afternoon, and Angel was twitching from boredom. 

“I’m gonna die!” He whined. “If ya ain't gonna let me outa here to spend the night with a john, then I want to do _something_ fun.”

“Not my problem,” Husk muttered into a bottle of beer.

Alastor only grinned at Angel’s insistent whining as he enjoyed seeing the actor struggling to avoid his favourite pass times; namely sex and drugs, Alastor was sure. ‘How long will it take until the pink spider squirms from with-drawl’ he mused. But at this particular moment, Alastor was feeling the burn of boredom himself, and he was intrigued to find out how Angel intended to satisfy his own feelings of boredom.

“Oh!” Angel cheered. “I know! Let’s play strip poker.” He winked at his bar mates and arched his back to emphasize his curvy chest suggestively. Husk grimaced at the display and continued to down his drink. Alastor perked up in surprise at the suggestion, his brow shot up towards his hairline. 

“I refuse to be in any state of undress around you, Angel dear!” Alastor cackled. “But a game of poker is a splendid idea! As long as you’re willing to make a bet on the game.” His tone shifted from cheerful to menacing, and he leaned towards the porn actor intending to prompt fear. Yet Angel smiled mischievously instead; Alastor had yet to determine if it was out of fearlessness or stupidity.

“Ya know I like to bet big, baby,” Angel purred, “what kinda bets do ya have in mind?”

Husk shot Alastor a weary look knowing full well what the consequences were for agreeing to make any sort of deal with the man. “No way I’m I betting with you, asshole, I’ll deal the deck but I ain’t doin’ anything else.”

“Fair enough, Husker.” Alastor replied. “You can keep your hands in the game but out of the deal. I was thinking one round of 5 card draw.”

“You don’t beat around the bush, huh,” he said as he pulled out a deck from behind the bar. After growing up in a casino in life, he had a soft spot for games of cards and magic tricks.

“You know me, dear friend, always one to get to the point.” He directed a devilish grin towards Angel. “No reason to give Angel here hope of winning back his bet.”

“Oh, don’t underestimate me, handsome,” Angel said with a hand on his chest, “I’ve played plenty of poker games in my life and death to know how to hold ‘em.” He gave the deer a haughty laugh, “in more ways than one if you catch my drift.”

“Odd to be bragging about losing,” Alastor sneered. “Just don’t start having second thoughts.”

“Alright alright,” Husk groaned, “make your bets and I’ll deal yer cards.”

Alastor laughed ominously, “well, Angel, when I win, you will owe me a favour. Whatever it is and whenever I cash it in doesn’t matter. I decide exactly what I want at a later date without any questions from you.”

“Oh,” Angel purred with half-lidded eyes, “if you wanted me to do you a favour you could’ve just asked, Al.” Alastor glared at Angel with a sharp smile.

Husk scoffed, deciding to pretend not to notice Angel’s promiscuity. “Don’t be stupid. Make one deal with this guy and you’ll be indebted for the rest of your afterlife.”

“Is that why you’re here, babe?” Angel chided which made the old cat bristle. 

“Whatever, make yer bet.”

Angel thought for a moment humming ‘no’ or ‘what if’ under his breath before a wide grin cracked his face open like an egg. “Well, when I win, I get to dress ya in drag and take ya clubbing.”

Alastor startled in surprise at the unexpected bet, his ears standing rod straight and his ever-present smile stiffened. “You are quite imaginative, Angel.”

“Ya can back out of the bet if you don’t like it.”

“Oh no, I don’t intend to. It is quite thrilling to make bets on a game of cards, and you are just as likely to lose, my dear.” He offered his hand, “do we have a deal.”

“Hold on, one more thing,” Angel said with a weary look at the offer. “Neither of us gets to cheat. No funny business.” Angel rolled up the sleeves on his upper set of arms and placed the lower set out of the way on his lap. “For once in my life, I’ll play a gentlemen’s game. Winner takes all no matter who got lucky.”

“Fair enough, my fine fellow.” He shook off his jacket to hang on his chair and rolled up his sleeves to reveal stained ink-black arms that faded to ashen brown skin farther up. “No sleight of hand–or hands–and no magic tricks. You have my word.” He offers his hand again, green energy radiating off his figure.

“It’s a deal.” Angel smiled as he firmly accepted the shake. Electricity tingled through his hand and up his arm until it settled heavily in his chest. The air around the two crackled and stirred like a storm, but it wasn’t long until the hotel lobby fell into silence once more.

After the intense moment, both of them turned back to Husk who was finished shuffling the deck. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll deal you each five cards and you’ll get to exchange any number of them to improve your hand _once_. Then you’ll lay down your hand and I’ll announce the winner.”

Husk dealt the cards in silence, and once each player had five cards, they peered at the hand they were dealt.

Alastor threw away a single card after a moment of thought and Husk exchanged it with a new one from the top of the deck. If Alastor got what he wanted, he didn’t show it. There wasn’t a single crack in his smile or his proper posture; he had a perfectly unreadable poker face. 

Angel looks at his own cards: not even a single pair. There was a chance he could turn his entire hand around by exchanging it with a fresh one, but he decided to keep the 10 and Jack of hearts. The two cards teased him with the possibility of a flush, but playing blind as he was, he could only hope that lady luck was on his side. He tossed the other three without a second thought.

“Not looking very confident there, Angel.” Alastor chided.

Angel gave him a smug look, refusing to let his confidence crack. “I just like livin’ on the edge.”

Husk dealt him three more cards, and Angel struggled to keep his face straight upon turning them over. ‘Husk is a dirty, dirty cheat.’ He thought.

“Alright,” Husk drawls, “lay ‘em down”

“Four of a kind,” Alastor announced smugly. Angel had to admit, it was a great hand.

“Looks like you got me in a tight spot,” Angel said, “but I’m gonna have to cash in on our bet, babe.” He laid down his hand to reveal the 10 and Jack along with the Queen, King and Ace of hearts. “Royal Flush.”

Alastor sneered, “a 1 in 650,000 chance, dear, looks like you cheated.”

“No way,” Angel whined throwing up all six of his hands for all to see, “I’m clean, I swear! Charlie must be doin’ something right because I didn’t do anythin’ dirty.”

Alastor gave him a dark look, but before he could retort, Husk spoke up with a lazy smirk. “He’s telling the truth, Al. Angel didn’t cheat. I did.”

Alastor looked at him with bewilderment and at a loss for words. Perhaps Husk found the Radio Demon less intimidating than Alastor had assumed or perhaps he just lacked any self-preservation. Alastor’s smile stiffened. He was wrong to assume that his indebted friend would sway the brief game in his favour, but he had expected Husk to cheat against him even less.

“Hey,” Husk said, “don’t get mad at me, nobody said I couldn’t cheat. Consider it payback for dragging me out of my own poker game when ya brought me to this washed-up hotel.”

“Oh, Husker, you’ll regret this,” Alastor replied darkly.

“I regret a lotta things in my life, but at least this time I get to make you miserable.” He took a swig of his bottle, completely ignoring the glare Alastor was sending his way.

Angel, however. was practically jumping up and down in his seat. “Husky baby, I didn’t know ya cared about me.”

“I don’t,” he replied flatly. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“But ya turned the tables in my favour, so I’d say ya at least like me a little bit.” He leaned over the table seductively.

“Just get outta here and leave me alone already.”

“Fair enough,” Angel hummed. “Come on, handsome,” he said to Alastor as he grabbed the deer’s arm, “let’s get ya dolled up.”

The look Al gave Angel was positively murderous. “I am a man of my word,” he said stiffly as he continued to glare at Husk as the two of them turned the corner. Being too buzzed to care for his own self-preservation, Husk gave the man a sneer and a finger in return.

…

“Okay, okay, I know you’ve never done this before,” Angel began as he sifted through the clothing in his closet, “but trust me, there’s ain’t anything wrong with a guy dressin’ up like a dame. It’s fun and it’s sexy.”

“Sure, it may be that way for you,” Al said decidedly from the doorway of Angel’s hotel room, “but I am no faggot.”

Angel gave him a withered look. “I get that you never moved on from the ‘20s, but we don’t use that word anymore.”

“Well, what would you prefer I use to refer to you and those of your…flamboyant persuasion?”

“Well,” Angel said as he gently grabbed Al’s hand and lead him to sit on his bed. Al gave the bed a careful look over, but it was perfectly fresh and made. He supposed that Niffty must have cleaned it not long ago. Once Al was seated delicately, Angel continued his educational talk. “First of all, I am gay. Nowadays that just means that I’m attracted to people of the same gender to myself. I’m a guy and I like guys, but I like having a feminine appearance,” he gestured to his fluffy chest, “wear feminine clothing,” his mini skirt and thigh-high heels, “and I like to dress in drag too.”

“Hmm, I’ll admit that I don’t know much of anything about ‘drag’,” Alastor said.

“Well that’s simple,” Angel said, “a drag queen is usually just a guy who dresses up like women with exaggerated features like big hair, lots of make-up and stunning outfits. We’re sometimes called transvestites, but that’s not to be confused with transexuals though who are people who’ve transitioned from one gender to another.”

“I see, so you are a gay man who likes to dress up like a woman.” 

“Yeah, basically.”

“Forgive me for offending you earlier,” Alastor said tentatively. Angel was bewildered that the powerful demon was capable of apologizing at all. “I don’t particularly care what company others like to keep nor their dressing habits. That’s just what we called people like you in New Orleans back in my day.”

“Yeah, I figured. No hard feelings. I’m always eager to teach others about the modern ways that I’ve come to know and love down here. Just be mindful of your old fashioned sayings next time.”

“Of course, you have my word.”

“Don’t think this distracted me from our real mission here,” Angel said slyly.

Alastor’s smile fell slightly and he hummed in response but did not comment.

“I promise I won’t dress ya up in anything too sexual or revealing. I’ve got plenty of stuff to wear and we look to be similar sizes, well, in most places.” He fished out some articles of clothing and tossed them to the floor.

“I am willing to trust your taste in fashion, Angel, but I would very much prefer if this little…bet not be so evident to anyone else.”

“Afraid of anyone finding out that the great Radio Demon lost a bet to a porn star?”

“No, I am more concerned with appearing in public in women’s wear.”

“Concerned it’ll wreck your fearsome image?”

“Precisely”

“Well, no worries, we’ll just have to make ya look like a whole new gal.” He walked up to Al and raised his hands towards his hair, “mind if I mess with your ‘do?” Al scrutinized Angel’s pink gloved fingers for a moment before giving him a reserved nod. “Well, we can pin your bangs back in a kind of pompadour to hide most of your antlers.” One of Angel’s extra hands fished around in his bedside drawer to pull out a hairpin and secured Alastor’s hair just behind his black velvet antlers which poked through but not enough to be noticeable from across a room. “That’s the first step. Can ya push ‘those’ back?” He said as he gestured to the fluffy appendages that stood up from his head.

“…My ears?” Alastor said with a contemplative smile. “Certainly.” The deer ears rotated and lay back. 

“Awe,” Angel cooed, “do ya got a tail to match.”

“...” Alastor was quiet for a moment, he broke eye content and let out a laugh. “Don’t ask such ridiculous questions!”

“Oh my god,” Angel gasped, “ya do, don’t’cha.” 

Alastor’s face twisted up into a smiling scowl. “What I look like under my suit isn’t anyone’s business. I’m sure there are things you dislike about your form down here as well.”

“Ya got that right,” he scoffed, “I got the perfect figure, but my feet are damn weird. I don’t even take off my boots when I’m gettin’ down to business.”

“Hmm, don’t make such remarks about your nightly endeavours in my presence, Angel.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” He waved his hand like he was clearing the air. “Point is that I won’t judge your little deer tail. It’s probably not as bad as you think it is; plenty of people really dig tails down here.”

“I’d rather they not ‘dig’ anything about me at all.”

“Man, you really are a prude,” Angel sighed. “Don’t like lookin’ at anyone, don’t like ‘em lookin’ at you. Is there anything that’ll turn ya on?”

“I will not talk about this here with you, Angel, I would like to move on so we can get this deal over with.”

“Alright, fine.” He threw up his hands. “We gotta do something about your masculine figure.” He sifted through the pile of clothes on the floor again. “You're as flat as a washboard, but I don’t think you’re the type to wear a breastplate. Doesn’t matter ‘though, plenty of girls pull off the flat look, and not every cross-dresser or drag queen likes to wear big breasts either.” He pulled out an off the shoulder crop top and threw it on the bed. “This could work.”

Al picked the garment up gingerly. “What is this? A shirt? Did it shrink in the wash?”

“No, that’s how it’s designed,” Angel said off his shoulder as his hands sorted through more clothes. “It’ll look cute and complement your skinny figure, trust me.”

Alastor placed the crop top back on the bed with a noncommittal hum. 

“You’ve got, like, no hips to speak of, so I was thinking we got with something frilly to give an illusion of a more curvy figure. Ah, here it is.” Angel held up a mini skirt that flared out at the bottom.

“I refuse to wear something so revealing,” Alastor stated plainly while he gave the skirt a look of disgust.

“Come on, Al, this’ll give your skinny bottom more volume.”

“That barely covers anything.”

“I’ll give you some legging shorts to wear underneath.” He offered a pair of mid-thigh shorts to the prudish deer. “No one’ll see your butt, I promise.”

Alastor continued to grimace, but he grabbed the articles and headed to Angel’s ensuite regardless.

As Alastor took his time getting changed, Angel started to piece together his own outfit for the night. He couldn’t be seen as Angel Dust for many different reasons including receiving the ire of his gracious hostess’ crabby girlfriend by sullying their reputation, but Valentino was also still on the prowl from his and Angel’s colossal breakup weeks earlier. Seeing his pimp would already make Angel’s day sour, but he dreaded what would happen were Val to see Angel with Alastor in drag of all things. Alastor would slaughter everyone within a ten-mile radius, and Angel wasn’t too sure he’d live to see another day. Although seeing Val get torn apart by the cannibalistic radio demon was certainly an enticing thought. 

He pulled out one of his blond wigs and a sexy cocktail dress with matching gloves that reached above the elbows. He wore women’s clothing plenty of times at the studio, but being a drag queen was still something he could call his own. Val found the outfits and make-up to be gaudy and unwieldy: why wear such things that would only get in the way of a shoot after all. So he was rarely recognized as the titular Angel Dust when dressed in full drag. 

The door to the ensuite opened as Angel Dust mused. “This is unacceptable,” Alastor said in the most dejected voice Angel had ever heard from the man. He expected to see Alastor as simply as ‘Al in a skirt’ but was shocked when he turned to look at the almost completely unrecognizable figure in the doorway. His regular red and black colouring was still just as vibrant, but Angel was shocked to see how different Alastor’s body was from what he was expecting. 

Alastor had always been covered from head to toe whenever Angel had seen him around the hotel. The only exception was that occasionally he’d roll up his sleeves to reveal dark stained skin trailing up his arms. He looked skinnier than Angel thought he would be as he could see the distinct protrusion of ribs bellow the crop top. He had always imagined that Alastor was mostly covered in ashen-brown skin like his face with an exception of his ink-black hands that ended in red claws, but to his surprise, half of Al’s body was covered in deer fur that transitioned around his back and waist. His feet were even more alarming: rather than human feet as Angel had expected, Alastor stood on a pair of dark cloven hooves. 

“Al, you look like a whole different deer!” Angel cheered in amazement giving the man a look over. “All we gotta do is add some make-up and accessorize, and nobody’ll even consider that it could possibly be you.” 

Alastor’s usual smile was straining into more of a grimace, and he refused to look Angel in the eyes. His clawed hands tucked behind him.

“Are you just embarrassed, Al, or do ya got something to say?”

“My…” Alastor started and Angel could swear he could see the heat rise to the deer demon’s face, “my tail doesn’t fit in these shorts.”

Angel circled around to look at Alastor’s back, and there it was poking out from under the frills of the miniskirt: a two-toned red and black deer tail. “Al,” he said with his upper set up hands pressing into his cheeks in excitement, “it’s perfect.”

“It most certainly is not,” Alastor grumbled.

“But it looks so good under that skirt! Guys’ll be too busy looking at your deer tail to even notice your more masculine figure.”

“I’d rather it not be seen at all.”

“Nobody’s seein’ Alastor’s tail; they’ll be seein’ the tail of a cute girl. I’m just doin’ my best to make sure nobody finds out you’re really _you_. Ya don’t let anyone see your body, so they won’t expect this from you which’ll make it harder to recognize ya.”

Alastor sighed and let his tense shoulders drop. His smile was still on his face but it was small and tentative. “I…will trust your judgement on this matter, but you will not be telling anyone of my…appendage. I have a reputation, and I will not be sullying it with such an intimate detail.”

“Thanks, Al, I won’t let ya down,” Angel cheered as he stood back up to full height. “Hmm, I was gonna let ya borrow a pair of my shoes, but I wasn’t expectin’ ya to have hooves. How do ya even wear yours?”

“I have them made special.”

“Well, we don’t got the time for that. You could just go without shoes. Nobody knows you’ve got hooves, so it’ll just differentiate you further from your regular persona.”

“Hm…I suppose.”

“Come on, let’s get your face done up. I’ve got the perfect little bow that’ll match your shirt to complete the look.”

…

Husk was lazily sipping alcohol at the front desk. The red hues of daylight had already slipped under the horizon leaving the grumpy cat with only the dim lights of the bar. Niffty was off somewhere cleaning last he had checked, so the hotel was quiet besides the odd creaking of the old building. 

He could hear footsteps approaching from down the hall, but was surprised when a tall blond chick he’d never seen before appeared from around the corner followed by a scrawny figure in a miniskirt. It was strange, he hadn’t seen anyone come since Charlie and Vaggie left before the poker game…

Husk choked on his alcohol and sputtered, “wh-what the–?! Is that you, Al?”

‘Alastor’ scowled at him with a threatening grin. “Don’t think I forgot about the little stunt you pulled, Husker dear, I will be getting back at you when this is all said and done.”

The blond giggled behind a hand. “Aren’t I good or what? Husk didn’t even recognize ya when ya walked in.”

“Angel?” Husk choked out. 

“What is it, Husky,” ‘Angel’ said, “ya interested in me now?”

“No way,” he growled and took another swig of his bottle, “I’m just surprised is all.” He looked over to Alastor again. “And Al, hooves. Really? Of all these years you’ve made fun of me for my unfortunate animal features, and you’ve been hiding hooves. And is that a tail?”

“Husker,” Alastor warned, “I will kill you if you don’t shut up about it.”

“Yeah, whatever, kill me. I don’t care if I go out getting back at yer sorry ass.”

“Hey hey!” Angel cried. “Ya can’t kill Husk! He’s my only access to liquor at the moment if only because he’s too lazy to uphold Vaggie’s no alcohol policy. If he’s gone, the she-devil will make this place dry!”

“Glad to know someone appreciates me.” Husk sighed. “Go on, you two, to wherever you’re goin’. Charlie and Vaggie won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, but if they find out you partied someplace and got drunk, I ain’t gonna cover yer asses.”

“Awe, Husk, have some faith in us,” Angel laughed as he took the scowling Alastor by the arm and led him to the door. “We’ll be extra careful not to let the warden know of our little adventure.”

Once the large stain glass doors shut behind them, Angel turned back to Alastor. “Alright, so we gotta do something about your voice. The radio talk show thing is gonna be a dead giveaway, so can ya tone it down?”

Alastor thought for a moment and responded without the sound of radio feedback. “Is that better?” It was strange to hear the man without the filter, but it was exactly what Angel hoped for; he didn’t want to have to hang out with a mute Alastor. What fun would he be if he couldn’t have witty banter at the bar?

“Oh yeah,” Angel replied, “way better, but ya speak all prim and proper which’ll really stand out in at the club, so could ya use some slang or maybe put on an accent or somethin’?”

“Well, I did grow up in N’Orleans, but tha Cajun accent don’ come out clear on tha radio, so I started usin’ a Mi’Atlantic accent instead,” Alastor said.

“Woah!” Angel laughed. “You’ve been keeping that lovely accent away from me all this time?”

“I’m a performer, Angel. As I’ve said, tha world’s a stage ’n I always put on a good performance.”

“Yeah, well this accent’s perfect for our particular performance tonight, so keep that up, ya hear.”

“Where’re we headin’ anyhow?”

Angel started walking down the road from the hotel followed by the sound of Alastor’s hooves clacking on the pavement. “There’s this club across town that Cherri and I go to. It’s not under Valentino’s or Vox’s control, so we like spendin’ time there. Loud music and plenty of liquor: just how we like it.”

“Sounds obnoxious.”

“Hey, I said we’d go clubbin’, so I’m gonna give ya the best clubbin’ experience there is! Ya like dancin’, right?”

“I’m not sure wha’ you call dancin’ is tha same as wha’ I’d call dancin’.”

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud. Ya can’t just sit at the bar all night.”

“I’m doin’ as you asked, Angel. I’m dressin’ in ‘drag’ and I’m goin’ to tha ‘club’. You never said anythin’ abou’ dancin’.”

Angel sighed in exasperation. “Alright, fine, you win. You’re doin’ all that I’ve asked of ya. ‘Though we gotta talk about some things before we get there.”

The two of them started walking down the busier streets away from the hotel which were full of makeshift tents from the countless homeless sinners covered in grit and grime. Demons of all shapes and sizes littered the streets and back alleyways; plenty of them kept an eye on Angel and Al. 

Alastor glared at them with a wide sneer before Angel elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t do that.”

“Do wha’, sha?”

“Smile like ya normally do!” Angel whispered. “You’re givin’ off some major Alastor vibes. Think ya could frown for me?”

Alastor gave him a quizzical look and attempted to frown for his feminine associate. He closed his mouth and the edges turned downward stiffly. If anything, Al just looked nervous. He cleared his throat. “Like this?”

“We’ll work on it,” Angel said with a sigh. “We also have ta go by different names. Ya can just call me Angie, and how about Alison for you? That way it won’t be weird when I call you Al if I need ta get your attention.”

“Alison…” Alastor muttered to test out the name, “tha’ is fine by me.”

“Oh!” Angel yelped suddenly causing Al’s ears to stick up with a start. “Ya can’t use your powers, okay? Or at least keep it on the down-low. I don’t want’cha gettin’ recognized, but I’d also be nice if we leave the club with most people still alive.”

“Not all?” Alastor asked and consciously set his ears back to their relaxed position. 

“If there’s a particularly nasty fucker, ya can off him if ya keep it outa sight of the bouncer. They’ll kick us out if we make a mess of the place.”

Alastor could hear the loud music as they approached a neon-lit clubhouse. Windows were boarded up and bright party lights showed through the cracks in the wood. A long line of demons–mostly men, Al observed–were waiting outside the door blocked by an imposing figure.

Angel leaned over to whisper in Alastor’s ear. “Another perk of lookin’ like this is the bouncer’ll alway let ya in. Clubs with cute partygoers are always more popular, so they don’t charge us. Just try and look cute while I work my magic.”

Angel interlocked one of his arms with Alastor’s and sauntered up to the bouncer. “Hey there, big guy,” he said leaning over to give him a good shot of his fluffy chest. “We’re lookin’ for a good time. Mind lettin’ us in.”

The demon turned to the two of them with a scowl and gave them a look from head to toe before giving Angel a flirtatious smirk. “There’s always room for two more pretty girls.” Angel blew him a kiss and Alastor bristled as the bouncer opened the club door.

Alastor tried not to look like a deer in headlights as the sound of club music grew louder as they ventured inside. He clenched his first and could feel his claws cut into his palms. It was quite dark despite the neon lights, and demons were packed like sardines dancing and laughing at things Alastor couldn’t hear. As much as he wanted to stick his ears up to listen for potential threats, the noise of the club made him more inclined to keep them pressed to his head to preserve his delicate hearing. He could see some demons doing more than dance and grimaced.

“Relax, Al,” Angel whispered, “don’t be so nervous. Just stick with me.” He led the tense deer to the bar and pulled out a few bills from his chest. “First drink’s on me,” he said with a wink before flagging down the bartender with the cash. 

“What can I do for you, ladies?” He called over the blaring music as he cleaned a glass.

“I’ll have a Sex on the Beach,” Angel shouted and Alastor raised a brow at the strange name.

The bartender nodded and looked to Al for his order. He cleared his throat. “A scotch–

“She’ll have a margarita,” Angel interrupted and the bartender nodded before putting his attention on making the drinks.

Alastor scowled. “Angel–

“Angie.”

“Angie, I’m not one for cocktails.”

“A scotch isn’t a party drink, and it’s definitely not a drink for a girl who wears a bow in her hair.” 

“You’re tha one who put it there.”

“It’s also an ‘Alastor’ drink, and you’re not an ‘Alastor’. You’re an ‘Alison’, so get outa your comfort zone and try somethin’ else tonight.”

It wasn’t long before the bartender returned with their drinks. Angel thanked him flirtatiously, but Al just grimaced at the cold slush presented in a tall cocktail glass in from of him. He took a cautious sip and shuddered with a shake of his head which whipped his red locked about his face. “Awful,” he said, “just awful.”

“Of, come on,” Angel sighed, “it’s not that bad. Maybe it’ll grow on ya.” Angel took a sip of his own cocktail and hummed in delight. “Not my fault your taste in alcohol is so bland.”

Alastor didn’t have a chance to retort when a couple of men slid up next to them. They smelled of alcohol. “Hey there,” said the demon next to Angel as he slid his arm around his waist. “Looks like you two just arrived, want us to show you a good time?”

Angel giggled in a feminine voice that Al hadn’t heard before. “On any other day maybe, but I’m on a tight leash tonight.”

“Oh, don’t be that way,” the other demon said as he leaned up on the bar next to Alastor, “whoever’s waitin’ for ya at home doesn’t need to know.” Alastor’s ears perked up in alarm when the demon slung an arm around his shoulders. “You’re in Hell, sweet-heart, live a little.”

“If you don’ keep tha’ hand to yourself, I’m goin’ ta tear it off,” Al hissed with a wide, crooked smile, but he kept the radio static out of his voice and his eyes maintained their regular red hue. He was ‘Off Air’ after all.

“Woah there. You’re kinda feisty, but can ya back it up?” The cretin had the audacity to lean in and put his other hand on Al’s hip. 

His shadow spiralled beneath him, but it wouldn’t do to have it manifest and tear the demon limb from limb. How unfortunate that was, so Al resorted to turning a complete 180º, grabbed the demon by the throat and shoved him into the bar. “Don’ test me,” he growled into the demon’s ear. “I’ll let it slide tha’ you can’t recognize tha difference in power for now, but I won’ hesitate to string you up by your entrails until you’re beggin’ for death if you ever approach me again.” He resisted the urge to smile by forcing his face into a stiff grimace. “Do you understand?” 

The demon nodded furiously, and Al let him slide to the floor where he scrambled away. His buddy, who hadn’t heard the exchange chased after him in startled confusion.

Alastor brushed himself off and daintily sat back up on the barstool. Some other demons had observed the commotion, but they quickly lost interest. It was far from unusual to see fights break out or for someone to aggressively refuse the forward advances of a fellow demon in Hell. Power was everything there, and the one who proved to have more dominance was always the one to get his way.

“I didn’ kill him ’n I didn’ use my powers,” Alastor chided and took another displeased sip from his drink.

“Damn, that was sexy,” Angel said in amazement. “Ever considered becoming a dominatrix?”

Al gave him a bewildered look that soon became one of disgust. “No,” he spat, “absolutely not.”

“That’s a damn shame. Lotta people would pay big money to have ya dominate them, just sayin’.”

“Ange—Angie, ’twas a threat not a’ invitation.”

“Okay, okay,” Angel sighed; he was starting to think that perhaps Alastor wasn’t so much as a prude as he was someone who didn’t understand how violence or acts of dominance could be exhilarating in a sexual way. 

“Why did you humour that disgusting creature, anyway,” Al said with a displeased look on his face.

“I just like workin’ them up and playin’ hard to get.” Angel put a finger up to his lips in thought. “I’m off the clock right now, but I just like seeing others get all hot and bothered by my gorgeous figure.” He batted his eyelashes and gestured to his curvy body with a gloved hand. 

Alastor just hummed at Angel’s display in disinterest. “You’re off the clock, so tha’ means you don’ intend to find a bed mate?”

“Well, sometimes if I find a particularly handsome guy to play around with, I’ll do more than flirt, but I’ve already got someone to go home with this time.” He winked at Al and took another sip of his drink.

Alastor grimaced. “Don’ phrase it tha’ way."

Angel shrugged as he stood from his seat with his drink in hand. “The offer is still open if ya ever wanna explore your wild side.” Al rolled his eyes at the invitation, and Angel sighed, “It looks like ya really can handle yourself here, so I’m gonna go dance. Find me if ya need me, babe.”

“I’ve never needed tha assistance of anyone, Angie,” Al responded bitterly. “I’ll be in this exact spot by tha end of tha night. And I refuse to carry you back to tha hotel, so don’ get drunk or take those drugs you’ve a fondness for or else I will leave you here alone.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good for ya, babe. I promise. Couple drinks and no dust," Angel said with a wave of his hand as he headed toward the loud crowd of sweaty dancers. “Oh, and watch your drink, alright.” He left Alastor with a wink and a pair of finger guns.

“I’m not stupid,” Alastor retorted as Angel disappeared in the crowd. He turned back towards the bar and absently glared at the nasty cocktail he had barely drunk.

After Al’s display of violence, he was left well enough alone as he was no longer considered an easy target as a fresh face to the club. His status there was in a certain limbo as demons cautiously tried to figure out what the deer demon was searching for that night. Unfortunately for them, Al was searching for exactly nothing and was perfectly content on wasting time just sitting by the bar pretending like he was elsewhere: away from the obnoxious atmosphere of the night club.

He maintained an uninterested look despite his discomfort from being surrounded by the flashing neon lights, loud modern music and smell of sweat, liquor and other unsavoury odours. His ears were pressed firmly against his head to cut out some of the noise, but it also left him feeling vulnerable to anyone who was to approach him unheard from behind.

He sat silently as he sipped his margarita. Someone tapped his shoulder, and he turned to shoo them away with a hasty response. “I am not interested in—“ he began, but he was cut off by a powder blown in his face. It stung his eyes and filled his nostrils. He could feel it on his tongue but there was no taste. His eye closed instinctively and he coughed in an attempt to clear the substance from his airways and resisted the urge to wipe at his face which would smudge the make-up that Angel applied earlier. Suddenly a man came upon his other side and Al could hear him reprimand the one who accosted him. 

“I know this is Hell, but that’s no way to treat a lady,” the man said. The first demon must have left because he directed his attention to Alastor by putting a hand on his shoulder and gently turning him to get a look at his face. “Are you alright? My name’s—

Alastor cut him off and grimaced at the contact. “I don’ care to hear the name of someone I don’ intend to see ever again, and I don’ need your assistance.”

“Perhaps,” the man responded, “but I like to think that good manners still exist here in Hell. May I get your name, ‘though.”

Alastor was going to refuse, but remembered the name Angel had given him and realized that it would be much less suspicious if the demon wasn’t left wondering what to call him. “Alison,” he said flatly.

“Well, Alison. What is a sweet thing like you doin’ down here for anyway?”

“Is that meant to be some sort of pick-up line,” Alastor sneered. The man only shrugged with a crooked smile that had Al believe he was right to assume his intentions. “I’ll have you know tha’ I’m in Hell for a reason. My victims in both life and death would disagree with you calling me sweet.”

The man let out a hearty laugh. “Do you have a preference?”

“A preference for what?”

“For your victims. How do you prefer them.”

“Well, dead, naturally.” Alastor’s straight-forward response got a laugh out of the stranger once more. 

“No, that’s not what I mean,” he said, “what were your targets like. Did you have a type or was it more of a crime of passion.”

“I was very practical in life,” Alastor responded darkly. “I liked to hunt those who weren’ too skinny nor too fat. I had them for dinner but not for the company, you know.”

“Oh, a cannibal, eh. Does that mean you’re into vore down here now that demons aren’t as delicate as we were in life?”

“I can’t say tha I know what tha’ is,” Alastor replied in disinterest.

The man laughed again, and Alastor was starting to find it obnoxious. “It means to eat someone or be eaten alive for sexual pleasure.”

Alastor bristled. “Wha’ a disgustingly crass topic.” The man offered a smug shrug at Al’s apparent repugnance. “No, I don’ find any pleasure of tha’ kind in eatin’ others, and I’ve no interest in speakin’ further on tha' topic.” Alastor took another sip of his margarita as an excuse not to say anything more as he glared at the stranger, but the sweetly bitter taste of the drink had him shiver in disgust.

“Don’t like your drink?” the demon asked.

“No, I much prefer jag juice,” Alastor replied, thankful for the change in topic before he realized his slip of speakeasy slang. “Erm, I mean hard liquor.”

“Ha! Jag juice! You’re older than I thought you were. Why’d you order a cocktail if you wanted something else.”

“I didn’t. My…friend ordered it for me.”

“Well, you sound a little french, so why don’t I order us a couple of glasses of Cognac?”

“Hmm, very well,” Alastor responded as he pushed his half-finished margarita glass towards the bartender, “but there mustn’t be anythin’ else in tha’ glass.” He pinned the man with a menacing glare with a frown that was starting to settle on his face from recent use.

“Oh, no no, I’m a gentleman, remember,” the man chided, but Alastor was doubtful. No gentleman would hang around such a sleazy bar much less one who would bring up such carnal topics in casual conversation.

Alastor watched the bartender pour their glasses to make sure his was clean, and once he had the drink in his hand he let the other man take a sip first. The cognac was much more appropriate for Al’s tastes and he sipped it slowly, savouring the burn of the liquor that caused him to perk up a little. He started to notice the languid feeling that was settling in his bones. ‘Perhaps this place is wearing on my senses,’ he thought as he suppressed the urge to yawn. ‘It has too much of the wrong type of energy for me.’

“This place really isn’t your style, is it,” the man asked, reading Alastor’s mood from his tense, irritated posture. 

“Definitely not,” Alastor replied. “Too much noise, too crowded, and awful company.”

“You offend me,” he gasped dramatically. “Have I not been treating you fine with a small talk and a drink?”

“Hmm, I suppose it's acceptable, but I’ll not be returnin’ any favours.” Al rested his elbow on the bar and his head in his hand. As the club wore him down, the noise started to fade away behind a buzz in his mind.

“You know,” the man said, “I can take you somewhere much quieter than here if you’d like. Someplace private where we don’t have to talk over the noise.” He placed a hand on Alastor’s knee, but Al scowled at the contact and shifted away.

“No need,” he replied, “I said tha’ I would stay right until tha night is done, ’n I intent to do jus’ that.”

The man hummed but backed off for the moment for which Alastor was grateful. “Alright, fair enough. Tell me if you change your mind, ‘though you are lookin’ quite exhausted. Have you had too much to drink?”

“I’m fine,” Alastor sneered. “Perhaps you jus’ bore me.” Despite his snide comment, Alastor was starting to feel dizzy, yet showing weakness of any sort—especially in-front of lesser demons—made his skin crawl. He had certainly been through worse without even batting an eye, but this feeling was queer in a way he had never experienced. It couldn’t possibly be the alcohol, he had been sure it was clear of unsavoury substances. His weary mind wandered towards the powder earlier. Perhaps it was not simply an inconvenient quirk of club activities. 

“You continue to wound me,” the man replied in jest, “but you’re lookin’ real tired there; are you sure you don’t want me to take you somewhere to rest?”

Alastor shot the man a devilish grin. “I’ve already told you tha’ I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he managed sternly. “I know wha’ you want, and I won’t be givin’ it to you.” Sweat had begun to bead down his neck and Alastor rubbed at it absently. An anxious feeling had begun to wash over him and his mouth went dry.

A glass was placed in his hand, and Alastor gazed at the clear liquid seeing an unfamiliar face reflect back at him. 

“You might feel better if you have some water.” The voice sounded distorted, and Al wondered when the stranger had gotten so close to him.

The ever-present hunger he felt from his mortal sin of gluttony stirred in his stomach. He peered at the reflection again and downed the glass.

“Woah, there! Thirsty, huh?”

He didn’t respond to the remark. The coloured lights were starting to swim and his ears perked up at the strange garbled noises that began to emerge from the din of the club. He realized he could no longer keep himself upright, and hands grasped his shoulders to steady him, but it felt like it was happening to someone else. He couldn’t remember what he was doing at that bar.

“You’re so thin,” whispered a voice into his ear. “Why don’t you come with me so I can fill you up? You’re hungry aren’t you?” 

Images of the bodies Alastor had cut up in his lifetime flashed in is mind. Blood pooling at his feet and staining his hands as he skinned his victims. His sharpened butcher’s knife slicing through tender flesh before he hung the chunks to drain. It was always jazz that he listened to on the radio as he worked.

Alastor turned his bleary gaze to the demon on his side. “Famished,” he replied.

...


	2. Chapter 2

Angel Dust had left Alastor at the bar some time ago to enjoy himself with the rowdy crowd on the dance floor where he was able to just forget himself for a while as he danced to the modern electronic music. It wasn’t the kind of forgetfulness he enjoyed from phencyclidine—otherwise known as his namesake: Angel Dust—it was the kind of blissful, in the moment, feeling.

As he swayed to the music and flirted with attractive men, Angel heard his nickname called out from a familiar voice.

“Angie!” Cherri bomb hollered as she squeezed through the crowd towards him. “I haven’t seen you here ever since you’ve been staying at that lame hotel!”

“Ugh, tell me about! It’s been so boring,” Angel groaned dramatically, “but I got the night off. I just gotta be responsible—no drinks or drugs, but hey, I ain’t complainin’ too much. It’s even more of a party now that you’re here.”

“So they let you out by yourself? Does this mean you’ve actually been earnin’ points for being a good boy,” Cherri teased. “You’re goin’ soft, Angie.”

Angel laughed, “no way! I just struck a lucky deal, but I ain’t alone tonight. Gotta new girlfriend with me.”

Cherri faked a gasp, “you’ve been cheating on me with a new best friend?”

“I wish! She’s a total stick in the mud and refuses ta leave the bar ‘cause she’s above all this ‘nonsense’. All prim and proper, ya know.”

“And you brought her here?” She laughed.

“Well, it was part of our deal.”

“She sounds miserable,” Cherri said before a mischievous grin stretched across her face. “Lemme meet her.”

“Eh, I don’t see why not. She’s either bored out of her mind or pissed off—scratch that. She’s definitely pissed off.”

The two of them headed towards the bar, but when it came into view from between the partygoers, Alastor was missing from his spot. His barstool was occupied by strangers Angel didn’t recognize.

“That’s weird,” he said, “said she’d be right there ’til the end of the night. Was really particular about it.”

“Maybe she had to take a piss,” Cherri offered.

“I don’t know…” He had a bad feeling about the situation. Alastor definitely wouldn’t have been overpowered, and he wasn’t wet behind the ears when it came to protecting his drink either. “I’ll ask the bartender.”

The man behind the bar worked furiously as he mixed drinks. Angel attempted to call out to the man a couple times but was ignored in favour of the other patrons who waved him down with cash. Angel grumbled as he pulled out a few bills. ‘I’m probably worried over nothin’ and he just got bored and left.’

The bartender finally took Angel’s money and asked what he’d like to drink, but instead, the spider gave him a hard look and said, “have you seen where the skinny red-headed deer that I came in here with when off to?”

“Oh, sure,” the bartender responded without care. “Saw her walk off with some guy who was talkin’ to her for a good while. It seemed like she had a bit too much to drink.”

‘Oh, oh no,’ Angel thought. “Did ya see where they went,” he asked anxiously.

“Headed to the rooms in the back.” Angel groaned at the response. Nobody cared much about anyone in Hell. If you had fallen victim to drugs or been attacked, it was your fault for not being careful or strong enough. That was why people stuck close to more powerful demons and made deals with overlords; that way they had the power to protect themselves or to return the favour to their attackers.

Angel and Cherri rushed towards the back of the club, and Angel hoped that nothing had yet happened to his companion.

…

Alastor was half carried by the stranger into a dimly lit room. The sound of the club became muffled when the door closed behind them. He was lowered onto a sofa that felt worn and rough, but he could barely feel the texture on his exposed skin. He felt numbness in his arms and legs, but he couldn’t comprehend why that was a worrying issue. Instead, Alastor was fixated on the pulsing veins in the neck of the stranger.

The man was talking to him, but the words were incomprehensible. He raised a shaky hand towards the man’s neck and sunk his claws into the fresh flesh.

Suddenly he was slammed to the floor and two hands wrapped around his neck, but no pain registered in his mind. Blood oozed down the stranger's neck, and that was all Alastor could focus on.

Muddy water seeped into his clothes and the dark room shifted into a night sky that was barely visible between the tall, dark trees of the bayou he grew up. The same bayou where he sunk the bones of his victim. The same bayou where he was mauled by dogs and shot like a deer in a hunt.

The eternal hunger in his stomach grew as his vision blurred around the edges. He sunk his claws into flesh once more are ripped off one of the arms that stretched out to grip his neck.

…

Angel kicked in every door that he could see with Cherri Bomb tailing his heels as demons shouted at them for disturbing their nightly activities. Angel checked every room for a glimpse of red or an unresponsive body, but when he found the room, he recognized Alastor instantly.

“Al!” Angel shouted as he spotted the deer crouched on the floor. The room was cloaked in shadow, and the only source of light came from the open door where Angel stood. When the deer demon turned to look at him, Angel could spot what was once a body ripped to shreds in a bloody mess that was strewn around the room. Alastor’s pupils were wide and unfocussed and he had his dark hand buried in the chest of the corpse. Blood was smeared on his face and clothes, and he was chewing something. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face.

“Oh dear,” Angel gasped, and if he wasn’t terrified of the bloody figure, he would have laughed at the unintentional pun.

“Holy crap!” Cherri said in shock behind him, but she was not aware of the imminent danger the two of them had stepped into. “This is the chick you came here with?”

“Cherri,” Angel said quietly, “don’t make any sudden movements and close the door so he—she can’t escape.” Cherri gave him a quizzical look but did as Angel asked. Alastor's eyes rapidly jerked between the two of them, and his ears were stiff and frozen in their direction like a deer on alert from a predator.

Angel slipped off one of his long gloves slowly and gripped either end with two hands. “I’m gonna gag her so she can’t bite us. If I can pin her down, help me out, but if I can’t, you better make a run for it.”

Cherri didn’t respond, but she raised her hands in anticipation.

Angel used his long powerful legs to jump at Alastor. He manifested his third pair of arms to grab the drugged and anxious deer. Alastor eyes widened like dinner plates at the sudden attack, and he clumsily spun around to apprehend the spider, but the blood that had pooled around him was slippery and he fell to the floor, unable to correct his balance.

Angel gripped both of Alastor’s wrists and pushed his shoulders into the ground with a second pair of hands when Alastor lunged to bite him. As Angel straddled the deer demon, Cherri grabbed his legs to keep him from kicking her friend away.

Angel and Alastor struggled as Angel tried to get the glove between the cannibal’s sharp teeth. Using force wasn’t working, but Angel had a risky idea: he let go of Alastor’s shoulders and let him lunge to bite again. Instead of sinking his teeth into Angel’s flesh, Alastor was halted by the glove that stretched across his open mouth, and Angel firmly gripped the deer’s head with his spare hands so he could tie the glove securely in place.

Alastor chewed at the fabric and struggled with invigoration to tear the thing away. Angel, who hadn’t expected the sudden spike in strength lost his grip on Alastor’s wrists, but rather than attack Angel with his sharp, bloodied claws, the deer demon scratched at his jaw in an attempt to remove the gag in his uncoordinated state.

“Hey hey hey!” Angel condoled as he tore Alastor’s fingers away from his own face which now bared thin bloody marks. “Don’t do that. You’re alright. You’re alright.” He tried calming the demon down but it was futile for Alastor didn’t make any indication of hearing him.

Angel pushed Alastor to his stomach and held his arms behind his back to tie down with his other glove. The deer demon continued to struggle but was unable to do anything now that he lost the use of his hands. Blood and saliva seeped into the glove, leaving dark, wet stains.

Cherri let out a nervous laugh. “Where’d ya find this chick?”

“Well, uh,” Angel started, he was shaking from adrenaline and was amazed that he could hold Alastor down, “I met her not too long ago.”

“Didja know she was a cannibal?”

“Um, sort of. She more of the cookin’ type, ya know, but I guess she’s not really in control right now.” He pulled Alastor onto his shoulder and felt blood seep into his clothes; he hoped that none of it was Alastor’s, and by the looks of things, it likely wasn’t. Moving the demon caused a strange shift in the room, and Angel realized that the room wasn’t as dark as he initially thought. Dark shapes snaked up the walls which originated from where Alastor’s shadow was meant to be.

When they had fought, Alastor had never made a move to activate the creepy voodoo magic that Angel knew he had access too. I appeared that the demon either couldn’t use his powers or he was unable to control them; Angel hoped for the former.

He adjusted the body on his shoulder and turned back to Cherri. “We gotta get outa here,” he said hastily and peaked out of the doorway. There wasn’t a sign that anyone had noticed the commotion with the loud music. “Could ya drum up some trouble so I can get her out with as little people noticing as possible?”

“Oh, I’ll do anythin’ for my bestie,” Cherri replied as she revealed a bomb with a devilish grin. Cherri ran ahead and lit a bomb to throw into the crowd of dancing demons. “Get outa here, bitches,” she called, “party’s over!” Demons of all shapes and sizes pushed each other around to get away from Cherri’s explosives, but rather than flee in fear, they yelled profanities at the girl for ruining their night.

Angel carried Alastor into the hallway and set him down against the wall so he could get a good look at him in better lighting. His clothes were in place and there didn’t appear to be any visible wounds besides the scratches that he had made himself. Angel sighed in relief but noticed the powder that clung to Alastor’s clothes, face and hair. Angel expected drugs and had assumed that Alastor had somehow accepted a spiked drink, but the dust suggested a different story. There weren’t many date-rape drugs that could be blown into one’s face. Angel’s stomach dropped when he realized that the drug was none other than his name-sake, phencyclidine.

Angel knew phencyclidine like the back of his hand. It was his favourite drug to get high on in Hell, and it worked wonders for getting through unsavoury lays due to the drug’s dissociative properties. Hallucinations and euphoria were Angel’s favourite effects, but the symptoms that Alastor was presenting were much too intense to suggest a single low dose. At higher doses, it was known to cause violent behaviour, psychosis and memory loss, and Alastor was most definitely violent and psychotic.

Explosions rang out from the club and Alastor’s ear flicked towards the noise in alarm as his unfocused gaze looked around the hallway rapidly. Much of the crowd had already fled from irritation moreso than fear, so Angel picked Alastor off of the floor and placed him on his shoulders once again. It was times like this where Angel was grateful for the extra arms which allowed him to secure the twitchy deer with an arm behind his knees and a hand on his back with four to spare.

Angel ran for the door of the club pushing past demons and ducking under projectiles from those who had joined the fight. It was a free-for-all for those that enjoyed the thrill of a fight. Outside of the club, however, was a different story where most were disgruntled over the commotion and had wandered off to find a different club to party until morning.

The streets were less busy since most demons had either gone to bed or passed out from drugs and alcohol, but there were still the night owls that would rather sleep during daylight. Angel did his best to ignore anyone who attempted to speak to him and growled out “back off, asshole” to those who reached out to him or Alastor.

Alastor had begun to emit soft static noises as his eyes and ears followed the various demons in the street. Otherwise, the deer demon remained stiff and still in Angel’s arm for which he was grateful. He was too quick to feel relieved, however, when a group of hellhounds across the street caught sight of them.

“Hey baby, what’s the rush,” one called. “Lookin’ for somewhere to spend the night?” His buddies laughed, barked and howled at the two of them.

Angel scowled at the catcalls, but Alastor's neck snapped to face their direction and he went rigid. The sound of static increased in volume and Angel could hear snippets of unrecognizable voices describing reports of crimes from long ago in the living world.

_‘…bodies…discovered in the…bayou…suspected animal scavenging…now known to be evidence of cannibalism…’_

The sound of old radio reports made Angel’s skin crawl and his hair stand on end. He hadn’t particularly cared about Alastor’s actions in Hell or what he had been condemned for in life, but hearing reports of his killings from almost a century ago was eery and unsettling.

The night had darkened and Angel realized that Alastor’s shadow had already begun to swirl and spread across the ground and up the walls of decrepit buildings. The hellhounds hadn’t noticed the danger as the continued to call out to Angel, trying to get him and Alastor to join them.

**CRACK**

The sound of bone snapping came from over his shoulder, and Angel saw that Alastor’s antlers had begun to grow and branch out.

**CRACK CRACK**

His eyes had turned to static and the sound of the radio reports grew louder.

Suddenly, the hellhounds and the buildings behind them were bisected with a strike from the shadows. Demons screamed in fear and confusion as debris crumbled to the ground around the bloodied bodies. Homeless demons who had been startled awake scurried away from their makeshift tents.

“Oh–oh SHIT!” Angel cried.

_‘…killer…still at large…police have dubbed…bayou cannibal…be safe in these trying times…’_

Angel took off running still clutching Alastor tightly over his shoulder. He was terrified of what the demon was capable of despite his inebriated state, and an attack like that would no doubt catch the attention of 666 News. He needed to get Alastor away from the action lest he slaughters everyone in his psychotic state.

He didn’t dare look back as he raced through the streets and sighed in relief when the tall, distinctive hotel came into view. Alastor seemed to have calmed down since the radio noises quieted down considerably and his antlers shrunk back to their regular size. Angel was gasping for breath as he swung the door to the hotel open.

“You guys are back late,” Husk drawled without bothering to look up from his seat at the bar. “Had fun?” He asked after a sip of a newly opened bottle of beer.

“Does it look like we had fun?” Angel groaned. Alastor wasn’t a heavy guy despite his tall stature, but carrying a struggling, cannibalistic demon over his shoulder was taxing both physically and mentally.

Husk finally bothered to give the two a glance expecting to see a disgruntled or disapproving Alastor to be the reason why Angel failed to enjoy his night out, but all those expectations evaporated the moment Husk lay eyes on the bloody mess that came in the door.

“What the fuck happened to him?” He said once he rubbed his eyes in drunken disbelief. Alastor perked up upon hearing Husk speak and attempted to turn and look at him from atop Angel’s shoulder. He was terribly twitchy but Angel was grateful that the deer’s shadow appeared inanimate ever since the incident with the hellhounds.

“Angel dust,” Angel whined, “fucking angel dust, Husk!”

“You mean the drug or is that some kinda joke?”

“Obviously I mean the drug!”

Husk squinted at Alastor and gave Angel an incredulous look. “You gagged him?”

“He tried to eat me! He already ate the guy that did this to him, and I don’t think he’s comin’ back from the mess Al left him in.”

“Never mind that,” Husk growled as he left the bar to stumble drunkenly towards the two of them, “how the fuck did anyone drug him in the first place?”

“I didn’t see it happen, but looks like they used the ol’ blow it in his face trick,” Angel said with a peeved look about him. “He had to have drunk something too because there’s no way he woulda’ overdosed on the dust alone. Might’ve been a particularly strong batch of the drug and they used plenty of it.”

Alastor silently ground his teeth on the glove as he unsteadily watched Husk, his ear facing the winged cat in alert focus and he buzzed with the sound of soft radio noise.

“Can’t say I know anythin’ about angel dust, but you’re the addict, so what do you suggest we do?”

“Gotta get him in a dark room and minimize noise ‘cause sights and sounds only make hallucinations worse. I guess we’ll take him to my room ‘cause I don’t know where Al keeps his key—probably in some other dimension or somethin’.” Angel headed towards the stairs with Husk on his heels.

“Niffty probably has access.”

“Niffty’ll talk our ears off and Al’ll probably cut us to smithereens like he did to those hellhounds.”

“What hellhounds?”

“Don’t worry about them,” Angel groaned, “I’m concerned about us. His shadow ain’t movin’ around now, but I dunno if it’ll stay that way.”

Husk gave a weary look to the floor; perched upon Angel’s shadow was a mess of formless shapes, but it didn’t move an inch much to Husk’s relief. “He hates dogs,” he said, “never told me why but that’s probably what set him off.”

“Good thing you’re a cat then,” Angel said as he unlocked his hotel room door and shoved it aside. He left the lights off and lay Alastor on the bed where the deer demon watched them attentively with his red glowing eye illuminating in the dark. The soft buzzing of static steadily grew louder. If Angel didn’t know any better, he would have thought they were about to perform an exorcism.

“What do we do now,” Husk whispered, “he looks shellshocked.”

“Well, we don’t got a hospital or anythin’ down here, but back in life they’d just wait it out anyway.” The radio static had evolved to snippets of unintelligible bits of music or dialogue as if Alastor was switching stations on a dial.

“Back in life they never had to deal with a psycho cannibal with freaky voodoo magic. He’s gonna tear through those laughable restraints and sink his teeth in our guts.”

The sounds emitting from the deer demon set Angel on edge and he wrung his hands nervously. “Well, there is one thing we could do, but he ain’t gonna like it.”

“You seriously think I care what he thinks? Spit it out. I dunno how much time we got until he snaps.”

“We could sedate him.”

“Oh yeah? With what? Do I look like a pharmacist to you,” Husker hissed back.

“I can do it. I’ve, uh, got a venomous bite. The perks of bein’ a jumpin’ spider, I guess, but I really don’t think he’s gonna let me bite him and he’ll freak when he sees the mark in the mornin’.”

Husk let out a surprisingly sympathetic sigh. “Sometimes sedatin’ the boys comin’ back from the war was the only way we could protect them and everyone else. Let’s just put him outa his misery until the worst of this passes.”

“Ugh,” Angel groaned, “Al’s gonna hate me more than he does already.”

“Just tell him I told you to do it. He’s gonna kill me anyway.”

“It’s been nice knowin’ ya.”

“Shut up and let’s do this.” Husk appeared to sober up. His fur raised and his wings unfurled slowly in anticipation, and Angel could finally see the battle-hardened soldier peak through the depressed drunkard. Alastor noticed Husk’s change in stance and watched him intently; the shadows of the room stirred.

“Alright,” Angel whispered, “we’ll have ta move real slow so we don’t freak him out. Then when I jump him, you gotta pin his feet down so I don’t get a hoof in the gut, alright?”

Husk nodded, and the two of them carefully approached the bed.

“Now!” Angel said as he leapt on top of Alastor. His third set of arms manifested in the air and Husk grabbed a hold of Alastor’s set of cloven hooves.

Alastor’s eye went wide as Angel straddled him to secure Alastor’s hips with his knees. He began to struggle vigorously and Angel fought to tilt Alastor’s head back so he could bite his neck where the venom could be circulated faster in the deer’s system. Suddenly the sound of ripping fabric reverberated around the room as Alastor’s pressed himself up against Angel to tear apart the glove fastening his wrists together. Before Angel could grab Alastor’s freed hands, red claws dug into his sides.

“Ugh,” Angel grunted. His third set of hands grabbed at the claws that sunk into his flesh, but he could only secure them in place to prevent further damage.

Alastor let out a shriek of radio feedback and continued to struggle against the hands that held him down.

“Angel, hurry up,” Husk yelled as he nervously looked at shadows stirring around the room.

Angel grabbed two fistfuls of Alastor’s hair and grasped his shoulders to give himself a clear view of his exposed neck. Venom oozed from his sharp teeth as he bit into Alastor’s ashen skin, and the deer demon screeched and struggled beneath him.

Angel was thankful that his demonic form took the shape of a jumping spider for jumping spiders venom was potent and fast-acting to make up for the fact that they didn’t use webbing to immobilize their prey. Alastor’s movements began to slow after a tense moment had passed, and his bloody claws fell from Angel’s sides as his muscles relaxed. Once Alastor’s glowing red eyes had closed, the sound of radio static dissipated and the shadows settled back into place.

Husk let out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m done. You deal with him. I’m gonna go have a drink.”

“Oh come on, Husk,” Angel whined, “I’ve been dealin’ with him all night.” He was utterly exhausted and just wanted to curl up in bed next to Alastor, but the fresh wounds in his sides were bleeding and he desperately wanted a shower.

“That’s your own fault for not keeping him outa trouble.”

“He should be the one keepin’ me out of trouble, not the other way ‘round.”

“That ain’t my problem,” he grumbled, ”I’m no charity worker, but I’ll keep Niffty outa your hair ’til morning’.” Husk shut the door behind him and Angel listened to his footsteps fade down the hallway.

Angel sighed as he tugged off his blond tangled wig and pressed a pair of hands to his sides to stop the bleeding. Luckily the wounds weren’t very deep and they’d likely be closed by morning, but Angel didn’t particularly care. It was much harder to “get erased” in Hell: angel weapons were a sure-fire method, but losing enough of one’s demonic body could also prevent the regeneration of wounds. That demon Alastor had torn apart and devoured was probably on his way to double hell, Angel reckoned.

He slipped out of his ruined clothes and headed for the shower. Angel was no stranger to dangerous demons in his bed or blood and injuries—he was a masochist after all—but this particular experience was on a whole new level.

He set the water to steaming hot as he preferred it and let it wash away the fresh and dried blood that clung to his figure. The hot water felt heavenly against his aching muscles. It took some time to scrub off the blood, but by the time he washed it out with copious amounts of shampoo and conditioner, Angel was feeling much better.

He rubbed a towel on his fur as he went to find a pair of pyjamas. He had to stay with Alastor to make sure he was alright when he woke up, and he knew that the prudish gentleman would absolutely loathe waking up next to a scantily clad porn star, so he settled on a pair of baggy sweat pants and loose crop top.

He fished some spare bandages from his closet and wrapped them around his middle with gauze. He’d likely bleed through it in the night, but his sheets were already stained and filthy anyway. 

Angel returned to Alastor’s side and removed the makeshift gag as it was no longer necessary and it would be an uncomfortable and greatly unappreciated thing to discover come morning.

Alastor was still covered in blood, but Angel didn’t want to disturb him or change him out of his clothes. He had been very particular about being ‘fully dressed’, and Angel was starting to understand why Alastor insisted that one could never be fully dressed without a smile. Seeing a slack frown on the man’s face looked wrong. Alastor would certainly be upset if Angel undressed him, and he would probably rather sleep covered in blood.

Angel tucked the deer demon under the bloodied sheets and lay beside him to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. He brushed down some fly-away hairs on Alastor’s head with his fingers and gently examined the blossoming bruises on his neck. He looked awful and Angel dreaded the arrival of the morning when Alastor would likely stir from his unconsciousness, but he could do little about it now.

He held Alastor close despite knowing that the man would despise the contact. He was relieved that nothing venereal appeared to have taken place at the club while Alastor was impaired. Perhaps it was a good thing that Alastor had been given much too high of a dose despite the violence that followed. That demon had deserved to be ripped to shreds by his would-be victim.

Angel’s eyes drooped as he wallowed in his thoughts of what could have been. This was something that prostitutes like himself were familiar with, but someone like Alastor who bristled at even the slightest sexual gesture and held unimaginable power wouldn’t have experience with being in such a vulnerable position. He feared how he would react to learning about the events that transpired at the club.

…

Alastor woke up late in the morning. Consciousness came to him slowly and he stirred with confusion as his senses came back in stages. His mouth felt dry, and there was a distinct flavour of iron on his tongue. He could smell the blood—old blood. And bubblegum? He felt grimy and uncomfortable but was surrounded in soft sheets, and his fingers were knitted in soft tufts of fur. Someone was asleep next to him; he could feel the warmth of their body and hear the soft sounds of their breathing.

Alastor jolted awake, sitting up suddenly, and immediately regretted it as he cracked open his eyelids. The room is bright from the crimson sunlight peering through the windows. The light gave him a headache and he was hit with a wave of nausea which forced him back into the mattress.

His bedmate has startled awake at the sudden movement. “Al! Oh shit, are you okay?”

“Wha-wha am I doin’ ‘ere,” Al slurs, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He tried to give Angel a glare and a threatening smile, but his face wasn’t cooperating. His eyes screwed shut and his brow furrowed from his discomfort.

“Uh, what do ya remember,” Angel asked tentatively. His hands outstretched towards the deer demon but he didn’t touch.

Alastor tried to concentrate on the event that led up to waking up with Angel but he drew a blank. His memories had a distinct gap between the evening beforehand and his waking moments. Alastor moaned into a pillow and tried to get his mouth under control to speak. “There was a poker game, ‘n I went with you to tha awfully ob-obnoxious place with tha loud music ‘n uncivilized company.”

“Figures,” Angel said with a concerned look, “don’t freak out okay ‘cause from what I could tell, nothin’ happened to ya, but-“

“Doesn’ feel like nothin’, Ange.”

“W-well it isn’t nothin’, ya got drugged a-at the club, and I shoulda kept a better watch on ya, a-and you were way overdosed because, when I found ya, you had your hands in some demon’s guts—he was prob’ly the one who slipped ya somethin’ but it didn’t look like he got far into whatever he had planned because you ripped him to pieces—“

Alastor gave Angel an owlish look despite the stinging feeling in his eyes from the light. “Angel,” he interrupted the spider’s rambling, “wha’ was it?”

“Huh?”

“Wha’ was tha drug.”

Angel groaned. “Phencyclidine, Al! Angel dust! Uuugh, of course, it had to be angel dust, if a god exists, they’d be laughin’ at the irony. I’m so, so sorry, Al. I just wanted to have fun and loosen ya up a bit.” He dragged a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh. “This is all my fault.”

“Stop wallowin’ in your pity,” Alastor grunted as he pushed himself up from the mattress with shaking arms. “I don’ need your sympathy, ‘n I will be perfectly fine.” The room was swimming but he steeled himself for not wanting to appear meek or in need of help.

“Relax, Al, you’ll still be feeling it for at least a couple of hours.”

“How long do symptoms last,” he asked as he held his head in his hands, trying to get the strength to stand up from his seat on the bed.

“Um, overdose symptoms can last up to twenty-four hours.”

“T-twenty-four hours!” Alastor yelped.

“Not necessarily! You’ll probably be fine and dandy in a few hours, so just lie down and sleep it off.”

“Wha’ is the time?”

“Th-the time? Uh...” Angel squinted at an old analogue clock Charlie had left on his bedside table in hopes that Angel would set an alarm and keep a consistent sleep schedule. “It’s like 8:30 in the mornin’.”

“8:30! I can’t possibly sleep in. Charlie will be back by noon, and I refuse to look anything less than my best!” He stood up and tried to make his way to the door, but he felt like a newborn fawn learning to use its legs. The room swam and he found himself on the floor with Angel propping him up and calling his name.

“You gotta give yourself time to recover, Al. I won’t think any less of you if you accept my help. This can happen to anyone! Even Vox! ...well probably not Vox, but that’s ‘cause he’s got a screen for a face so he can’t eat anythin’. It’s not ‘cause he’s more powerful or anything and I ain’t gonna go blamin’ the victim of an ass who drugs unwillin’ people to get his way.”

“I am no victim!” Al growled and pushed himself away from Angel. “As you said, I tore the disgusting creature apart and ate his entrails. If anything, he was the victim by the end of the night, and I refuse to be treated like someone weak enough to be takin’ advantage.”

“Al...” Angel sighed. “Ya don’t... It’s not...” He tried to console him in some way, but Alastor glared and Angel knew that any words of support would be misconstrued as pity by the proud radio demon. “I’m sorry—

“Stop apologizing, Angel,” Alastor snapped. “I am sure I left my suit in your room, so make yourself useful and fetch it for me. I refuse to wear these skimpy, filthy clothes any longer. I would like a bath and a large cup of black coffee.”

“If you’re gonna bathe, I’ll get ya a robe instead,” he replied and thought to himself: ‘because I really don’t think you’ve got the coordination ta get in and out of your suit yet.’

“Whichever, I don’t care,” Al grunted, struggling to stand again. He stood on shaky legs and headed towards the washroom door to get changed out of Angel’s sight. He leaned on the wall when he felt dizzy.

“O-okay, I know you don’t want my help, but it’ll go a lot faster if you let me help you.” Angel fetched a fresh robe where it hung in his closet and offered it to Al who gave the thing a bleary look before snatching it out of the spider’s hand.

“No need, Angel. I am perfectly capable of doing this myself.” He stumbling into the bathroom and locked the door behind him before sinking to the floor. He felt positively awful, and he noticed that his shadow was as still as any other but formless and unfocussed. ‘What a mess’ he thought, clawing at the blood-stained garments that Angel had lent him. He wondered if Angel would care if he just shredded them, but when has that ever stopped him before? He could just sew it up later—no, why should he? The wretched thing should be burned, but he felt an odd twang of guilt when Angel’s concerned face came to mind. He hated feeling weak and he hated others seeing him that way even more, but Angel had gotten him back to the hotel, and Alastor didn’t know how to feel about it. Was it because Angel wanted something? Blackmail perhaps? He dwelled on his paranoid thoughts until a knock came at the door.

“I hope ya didn’t fall asleep in there! Are ya sure you don’t need my help?”

“N-no, I am perfectly fine,” he said tiredly as he tugged off the tight fitted clothing. It was a struggle, and he was sure he had ripped the shirt when it got caught on his antlers, but Al couldn’t bring himself to particularly care. He was filthy, covered in blood from head to hoof and it had dried into his hair and fur. What an annoyance it would be to wash out.

All the struggling had made him aware of the stinging sensation on his neck. It felt tender and raw, but due to his headache, he didn’t want to turn on the bathroom light to look in the mirror. He used the doorknob to pull himself from the floor and secured the sash around his waist. He would usually never consider appearing before someone else in a robe, but Angel had already seen him in much less, and Al desperately wanted to get back to his room to bathe.

Angel was biting his nails when Alastor opened the door. “If you’ll excuse me,” Alastor said straightening out his robe and unpinning the bow Angel had secured to his head the night before, “I will be heading to my room.”

“I can take you there.”

“I don’t—“ Alastor began but realized that he’d much rather lean on Angel than stumbled his way through the hotel halls in nothing but a robe. “Fine,” he said, offering his arm for Angel to grab, “I will allow you to escort me back, but I will not need you afterwards.” He tried to twist his face back up into his usual smile but wasn’t certain if he had succeeded.

Angel, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, simply nodded and gave Alastor a hesitant smile as he felt the man’s weight lean up against him.

They had gotten halfway down the hall in silence before their resident house cleaner bolted into them. Alastor, who was still struggling to stand gripped Angel tight as the small demon jumped up onto the two of them, clutching their clothes to stare the deer demon in the face with her wide single eye.

“Oh my gosh, Al! You slept in! You’re not dressed! You look awful! You’re covered in blood, and you’re coming from Angel’s room!” She gasped. “Are those bruises?! Scratches! And a bite mark! What in the world were you up to last night!”

“B-bite mark?” Alastor stuttered as he raised a hand to feel his tender neck.

“It’s not what you think, Niffty!” Angel blurted. “Al was just attacked last night and isn’t feel well, and he’d really appreciate it if you could draw him a warm bath!”

“Attacked!” Niffty shouted. “Are you cursed?! Should I get your voodoo stuff?”

“No, dearie,” Alastor replied. “I will be fine. I just need to clean up.” He patted her head and she jumped down from her perch.

“Of course,” she said, “anything for you! I’ll get that bath started!” And with that, she zipped down the hall. The two men followed after her at a much slower gait.

“Angel,” Alastor said with a shaky but threatening smile, “you never told me about a bite.”

“W-well that’s because that was me,” Angel said meekly, one of his hands dug into his own locks of hair as he looked away from Alastor bashfully.

Alastor’s threatening look deepened and his claws dug into Angel’s arm. “Oh really? And why is that.”

Angel winced. “The drugs made ya real violent: ya kept tryin’ ta eat me and ya were clawing at your neck, so I bit ya ‘cause my, uh, spider venom is a sedative. I-I didn’t wanna do it ‘cause I knew it’d make ya mad, but Husk said that I’d be better if ya weren’t awake during the worst of it.”

Alastor’s eye twitched as he mulled over Angel’s confession. He felt like reprimanding the younger demon for marking up his skin, but he felt a twinge of guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. It was a completely unwelcome feeling. “I apologize for trying to eat you,” he said before noticing the bloodied bandages that wrapped around Angel’s middle below his cropped shirt. “Did I do that?”

“Oh, uh,” Angel laughed nervously, “just a couple of scratches. Ya tried to fight me off when I went to bite ya, but I’m bigger than you and have more hands.” He was never ever going to mention gagging and tying the radio demon up to keep him from devouring any poor soul in sight.

Alastor hated the thought of himself being completely unaware and out of control, but knowing that Angel was able to handle him in that state was even worse. He could have been easily done away with if a lesser demon could pin him down without losing a significant chunk of flesh. He was vulnerable: what a horrid, disgusting thought.

“I’m glad that you are…okay,” he said, not wanting to seem worried, “but I do hope that no one caught wind of my identity, Angel. So?”

“Oh, no! Not at all!” Angel replied hastily. ‘Probably not anyway,’ he thought. It didn’t appear like anyone had noticed that the attack on the hellhounds came from Alastor.

“I suppose that is reason enough to keep you alive for now,” Alastor said ominously. They had reached Alastor’s wide open hotel door, and running water and Niffty’s humming could be heard inside.

“Oh! There you are!” Niffty blurted upon seeing the two of them. “You took so long that I thought maybe you got lost, but Alastor never gets lost! So you must be feeling real awful!”

Alastor gave her a tired smile. “No no, I just had something to discuss which our dear Angel Dust.”

“Listen, I promise I won’t even look,” Angel said to the deer demon, “I’ll close my eyes and ya can hold onto me just in case. And I won’t peak! This is serious, I’m not tryin’ ta get into your pants right now.”

“If that’s what it will take to get you to leave,” Alastor chided.

Angel covered his eyes with one hand and Alastor held onto his forearm firmly after shedding his robe which was whisked away by Niffty. The bathwater would have been the perfect temperature on a normal day, but it was unpleasant on Alastor’s feverish skin. He didn’t dare complain, however, and settled into the tub.

“I’ll just go get showered and dressed for the day,” Angel said by the door still covering his eyes with a hand.

“Of you go,” Alastor drawled, “don’t bother coming back.”

The door of the bathroom closed leaving Alastor to sit in silence.

Sitting there in the hot water covered in blood reminded him of when he would bathe after chopping his victims to their various culinary sections. The water in the tub would turn red like it was now, and he’d have to scrub his arms and hands clean. Blood always stuck around beneath his nails which had him rub them raw many times so that no one would ask questions at the sound studio.

He had pairs of clothes that were dedicated to chopping up bodies: an apron and rubber boots with a worn pair of trousers and an old dress shirt stained with bleach. He kept them in the old shack nestled deep into the bayou that was secluded from anyone else who lived in the area. It was his home away from the place he owned in the city. One that required a boat to reach it and that was only if anyone were able to navigate the dense, tangled brush of the bayou.

He felt tiny fingers running through his hair. “There we go! All done!”

Alastor blinked a couple times before he noticed Niffty with her wide-eyed look and cheery smile. She had a blood-stained washcloth in one hand and a showerhead in the other. The tub was empty and the blood that had covered Alastor was washed away.

“Niffty,” Alastor asked gently, “what are you still doing here?”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t leave,” she said with a pout, “or you’d have been sitting in that tub until the water went cold without getting anything done. Looked like you had fallen asleep! You must be really sick!”

“Ah, thank you, Niffty, I suppose, but you should have just roused me.”

“Well, I tried,” she whined, “but you didn’t wake up no matter what I did!”

Alastor didn’t recall anything that had happened since he had gotten into the tub. Angel had said the symptoms were temporary, and Alastor hoped that he was right. Drifting off like he had was dangerous.

He grabbed a towel dry himself off and sat on the side of the tub. Standing up was still a struggle with the persisting dizziness that plagued him since he awoke, and he didn’t want to add a head injury to his list of ailments by falling over. Niffty helpfully towelled off his hair and ears while she chattered away.

“I got you a clean suit to wear since your other one is in desperate need of repair! The coattails are in tatters! And you know how to sew, so I don’t know why you haven’t fixed it up yet!” She handed Alastor his shorts and trousers, and he didn’t bother telling her to leave as she buttoned up his shirt with nimble, efficient fingers. He would have probably taken ages to button them in his current state. “Don’t you want to impress Charlie when she gets back? The hotel’s clean and in-tact and everyone is accounted for!” She helped him put on a red vest and tied his bowtie. “You’re always so particular about looking your best, but your missing that lovely smile of yours!”

“Oh,” Alastor said in alarm. He hadn’t noticed the frown that had settled on his face. So many worrying things had happened that it had actually caused him to lose face. “Ah, you’re right, Niffty,” he said with a small smile, “I’m not fully dressed without it.”

“Hm,” Niffty hummed and squinted up at Alastor, “that smile is kinda pathetic, no offence.”

Alastor laughed, “always one to put things bluntly, my dear. I’m sure it will grow on me after I’ve had my morning coffee.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re right!” She gasped. “You’ve slept in and you haven’t even had your cup of the day. No wonder you’re in such a bad mood! I’ll go put the kettle on!” And with that, she was out the door and down the hallway leaving Alastor alone until a particular pink spider peaked at him from around the corner.

“Why does she get to hang around you and not me,” Angel asked with a pout. He was dressed in his usual attire, and Alastor wondered if the cuts he had left in his skin had already sealed shut. “Also, that’s an outfit I haven’t seen on ya before. Looks nice.”

“Thank you.” Alastor stood up with a huff and summoned his mic stand to lean on. Using his magic to conjure the thing gave him a dizzying feeling; he took a moment until the feeling subsided. “She is certainly more agreeable than you are, and I dare say that I enjoy her company more.”

Angel gasped dramatically and leaned back with a hand on his forehead as if he was going to faint at Alastor’s jab. “After all we’ve been through together! Didn’t you enjoy cuddling with me last night?”

Alastor grimaced. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Oh come on, I just like to tease.”

“That is certainly true.” He pushed past Angel and peered at himself in the vanity mirror. The bite mark was hidden by his high collar, but the scrapes and bruises irritably travelled higher into view. “I can’t have Charlie seeing me like this. She will be greatly disappointed that I failed to fulfill her orders of keeping everything as she had left it.”

“No problem,” Angel cheered as he gently pushed Alastor into a chair. “In my line of work we’re always covering up marks like that! I may have an easier time covered in fur, but I’ve got plenty of cosmetics that I keep around in case any of my buddies need to cover up. The marks’ll be completely invisible once I’m done with ya. Charlie won’t see a thing.”

“Your help is much appreciated,” Alastor said. This wasn’t something he could take care of himself at the moment, so he let himself rely on Angel Dust once again.

“Wait right there and I’ll be back.”

Once Angel had left, Alastor attempted different smiles in the mirror trying to get back his regular intimidating flair. However, the dark shadows under his eyes and his pale complexion weren’t doing him any favours with his crooked and strained smiles. He did feel marginally better than when he had awoken, thankfully, but the exhaustion and dizziness were taxing on his frame of mind. He figured out what it felt to produce a decent smile and kept it on his face. It would have to do.

“Alright, alright,” Angel said as he re-entered the room. “First ya gotta put on some moisturizer, and I’ve got some invisible spray-on bandaid stuff for the cuts. Then there’s the primer before I’ll add the cover-up. That way it’ll stay in place better.”

Alastor didn’t say anything as Angel worked. He was quite impressed with the spider’s skills as the marks were covered by make-up that matched his skin tone perfectly. Once finished, Alastor couldn’t even tell the marks were there besides the dull tender feeling.

“Absolutely remarkable, my dear,” he said, “this is much more becoming of myself.”

Angel preened at the compliment as he packed his things in a pink make-up bag. “Glad to be of service.”

“I’ll have to bid my dear dunk associate ‘good morning’ and discuss some very important things regarding his disloyalty.” He stood up suddenly which caused the room to spin for a moment but he caught himself with his mic stand. “You have been very...useful to me, but I can take it from here.”

“I’ll head down with ya cause I am itching for somethin’ to drink right now.”

The two of them walked downstairs in silence. Alastor was slower than he would have liked, but he was glad to be upright under his own power. He ignored the worried glances Angel gave him every so often and kept a smile stretched across his face.

“You look well,” Husk grunted as the two of them arrived at the bar. Niffty appeared suddenly at Alastor’s side with a large cup of coffee. It was black and bitter which was exactly how he preferred it to be. “Doesn’t even look like anythin’ happened to you last night.”

“Was the guy who attacked you really strong,” Niffty asked, curiously looking up at Alastor as she stood on a barstool.

“Oh, no no no,” Alastor laughed after a sip of his coffee. “Wasn’t any trouble at all. He got a good hit in is all.”

“Well I didn’t hear anything at all last night,” she said, “were you out somewhere?”

“Why it happened close by! I was walking the hotel grounds, isn’t that right, Angel?”

“Yup!” Angel replied hastily. “Saw it myself! Alastor did quite a number on the guy, so I don’t think he’s ever coming back.”

Niffty huffed and pouted. “I would have liked to see it.”

“Wasn’t that exciting,” Husk drawled, ‘though there were dark circles under his eyes. Angel wondered if he stayed up all night from anxiety for his own safety or perhaps for Alastor. The bartender may have had a soft side after all.

“And it is all said and done already,” Alastor said brightly. “The sun is shining and the hotel is standing with all accounted for! It is a fine day indeed.” It was, in fact, not fine and dandy, but there was no way he was admitting that to his company. “Niffty, dear, I believe that Angel’s room requires a set of new sheets. They are quite bloodied from when Angel was assisting me from the attack last night.”

Niffty gasped. “Oh no! They must be stained by now! I'll need to fetch the bleach!” She hopped off the barstool and hurried up the stairs out of the lobby.

Alastor turned to Husk with an intimidating smile, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson for sabotaging me, Husker.”

“I ain’t gonna get involved in any of yer shit next time,” Husk replied with a grimace. “You’re nothin’ but trouble”

“Fair enough, but I think a punishment is in order, don’t you agree?”

“Don’t even go there, you conniving bastard.”

“You know,” Angel interjected with a sly smile, “I’m sure I’ve got something in my closet that will look absolutely fabulous on you, Husky.”

“Fuck you, I ain’t gonna do shit.”

“That is certainly a compelling thought,” Alastor said with a finger to his lips in thought.

“Don’t you even fuckin’ think about it,” Husk growled, his fur standing on end.

“But I think I’ll let him stew in the suspense of my decision for a while,” Alastor concluded with a final sip of his coffee. His feline companion just bristled and grumbled as he grabbed himself another drink.

...

Charlie and Vaggie returned to the hotel at precisely noon when the intricate stain-glass door burst open to reveal the fuming sinner and her cautiously optimistic demon girlfriend.

“YOU!” Vaggie yelled as she stomped up to Angel. “You were at that club that Cherri Bomb blew up last night, weren’t you.”

“Hey!” Angel whined with his hands in the air like he was surrendering to police. “I haven’t seen Cherri since the turf-war with Pentious! I didn’t even know she blew up some club!”

“I don’t trust a single thing out if that dirty lying mouth,” Vaggie growled.

“Easy Vaggie,” Charlie said with a nervous smile, “we didn’t hear anything about Angel Dust being there. If you don’t trust him we can just ask Alastor.”

“Ask me what?” Alastor asked after he appeared from the shadows behind the girls. “Did you have fun at your party?”

Vaggie startled at his appearance. “I trust you even less,” she snarled, “there no way that Angel or Cherri destroyed those two blocks on the northern side of the Pentagram in a single strike! You were there too, weren’t you.”

Al blinked at her in confusion. “Two city blocks? No, this is the first I’ve heard of this.” He was telling the truth considering his gaps in memory, however, he had the suspicion that it was, in fact, him who caused the damage. “Oh, I do hope there were plenty of victims.” He smiled wide.

“I don’t think Al or Angel were there”, Charlie said, “right Al?”

“Oh dear, no,” he laughed. “We haven’t been anywhere but here, and as you can see, it is exactly as you left it!”

“Yeah!” Angel said, “I didn’t even get drunk or have any dust! I was good!”

“Yes, I would say that he was a fine gentleman! Responsible even! I know that is hard to believe that he was sober, but I refuse to babysit a drunk. We just kept him occupied with a game of poker.”

“Was it strip poker,” Vaggie asked flatly. Radio interference screeched but Alastor recovered quickly.

“Heavens no!” He laughed.

“Oh, I suggested it, but they didn’t wanna play,” Angel purred. “It was fun and I won.”

Alastor bristled. “You only won because Husk is a filthy cheater.”

“Sore loser,” Husk grumbled.

“That’s great! I’m so glad I could trust you with this, Al,” Charlie cheered.

“Something’s fishy," Vaggie hissed.

“Enough about us,” Alastor said as he moved to sit by the bar, “I want to hear about your thrilling escapade at the royal gala and your lovely brunch with your ex.” He smiled menacingly but had needed to sit from the exhaustion that was settling over him like a heavy blanket.

Charlie and Vaggie described their eventful evening. Vaggie was the target of many demons’ ire as expected, however, she had been on her best behaviour with the help of Charlie which only infuriated them more. Charlie said that they liked to look down on sinners as lesser beings with no will to oppose their mortal sins, but seeing a sinner like Vaggie–who was no stranger to wrath–keep a polite and dignified air about her despite the picking and prodding of Hell-born demons drove many positively mad. Worse was the fact that none of them could do anything about it since Lucifer found the discord positively hilarious and Charlie wouldn’t let a single hair on her girlfriend’s head be touched by their fury.

Their brunch, on the other hand, was incredibly awkward. The Manges and the Eldrichs had a long history together, but Charlie and Helsa fought like cats and dogs, and there was bad blood between Charlie and her ex-boyfriend, Helsa’s brother. Apparently, Charlie’s spiteful side had shown through as she constantly praised Vaggie over every little thing in front of the Eldrichs just to irritate her ex, and despite Lilith’s suspicion of her rude behaviour, Charlie had just played dumb to how it bothered her self-centred ex. Vaggie said that it was an awful experience, but Charlie had made in considerably more bearable. At least Lucifer seemed to have had a good time.

Alastor listened intently to much of the account, but he found himself leaning into the bar until he fell asleep with his head in his arms.

“Oh, dear, Alastor looks exhausted,” Charlie said.

“Why is he tired if he didn’t do anything last night,” Vaggie said with suspicion.

Angel replied with an unhelpful ‘uuh’ before Niffty enthusiastically butted into the conversation.

“Angel said that he and Al fought off someone on the hotel grounds! That he got a good hit in before Al tore him to itty bitty pieces!” Niffty jumps up onto a stool and suddenly changed the subject, “oh dear! If he sleeps there hell have a real big headache!”

“Oh no,” Charlie fretted, “I hope Al’s okay.”

“He’ll be fine,” Husk muttered into his bottle.

“Yeah,” Angel said with a nervous look towards Alastor, “he wasn’t feelin’ too well this morning and was awfully crabby about it, but he’ll be back to his ever-smiling self when he wakes up.”

“No one mentioned an attack earlier,” Vaggie asserted suspiciously.

“Yeah, well, Al didn’t want anyone to worry about it,” Husk replied. “Doesn’t like people seein’ him under the weather.”

“You should move him to the couch, Husk,” Niffty said patting Alastor’s head gently. Angel wondered if Alastor would have let her do such a thing if he were awake. He was envious of the higher tolerance Alastor appeared to have for the eccentric girl.

“I ain’t carrying that bastard,” Husk grunted with a swig of his beer.

“Al?” Charlie asked, gently nudging his shoulder. “Al, can you get up? You shouldn’t sleep here.”

Charlie’s worried expression turned to concern when he didn’t rouse at her prodding.

“Wow!” Angel laughed nervously, “he sure sleeps like the dead. I can move him no problem! I don’t have extra hands for nothing, you know. No reason to wake him up! We should just let him sleep it off!”

“If you say so…” Charlie replied hesitantly.

Angel picked him up from his seat at the bar princess style, but Alastor didn’t stir. He could here the quiet humming of radio static emitting from the slightly shorter demon. In his relaxed state, his face wore no smile or frown.

“Somethings not right about him,” Charlie declared as Angel lay Alastor on one of the lobby couches.

“We can ask him about it when he wakes up!” Angel said as Niffty ran over with a blanket to drape over the sleeping deer demon.

“Well, you're being awfully nice,” Vaggie observed.

“Hey, I can be nice sometimes! I’m not a total asshole."

“Trying to cop a feel,” she asked with a grimace. “Not that I care about that asshole but he’ll tear you to pieces if you were to try anything.”

“I can appreciate a nice butt without touching it you know,” Angel replied slyly.

“Ugh!” She groaned. “I don’t want to hear you talk about anyone’s ass! Especially not his!”

…

The sun had already begun to set when Alastor opened his bleary eyes to see everyone sitting around the lobby couches. “Forgive me,” he said as he sat up, “I must have fallen asleep.” He was feeling much better and the dizzying feeling had finally gone away.

Charlie perked upon hearing him. “Oh!” She exclaimed cheerfully. “You’re awake! You missed dinner. Angel, can you grab some for Alastor? I’m sure he must be hungry?” Angel left obediently without complaint much to Alastor’s surprise.

“Yes, I am starving, darling,” Alastor replied as Niffty patted down a couple of his fly-away hairs.

Angel returned with a bowl of chunky stew. “How ya feelin’?”

“Hmm, I am feeling well-rested.” Al settled on. He was terribly hungry, but he paced himself to eat slowly for not wanting to be ill-mannered.

“I’m happy to hear it!” Charlie said brightly. “You must have been exhausted because you slept the day away!” She gave him a nervous, worried look. “Ha-have you been overwhelmed with fixing up the hotel? You’ve done so much to fix this place up, but I don’t want to push you.”

Alastor knew she didn’t mean to belittle him, but his smile twitched anyway by the implication that his powers would be so taxing on his own well-being. “Oh, no no, dear. Turning this place around is nothing! Child’s play! In fact, my mind's been abuzz with new ideas and plans to get this place up and running! I’ve gotten so carried away that I’ve been forgetting to rest. It is no matter though, I am fine.”

“Oh, I’d love to hear everything you’ve been thinking about! But maybe tomorrow since I don’t want to bother you any more than I have already. You should get your rest tonight, and no more skipping out on sleep!”

“Of course.”

“Anyway, now that you’re awake,” she continued, “Vaggie and I are gonna retire for the night. The gala took a lot outa us.” Alastor gave them a polite smile while Angel made a curious hand sign which prompted Vaggie to flip him off as she and her girlfriend left the lobby.

“Now that this day is coming to a close,” Alastor said after the two girls had left, “I would like to propose a proper night out at a respectable speakeasy.”

“Oh oh oh!” Niffty cheered in excitement. “I hope you’re talking about Mimzy’s place! I haven’t seen her in so long!”

“Whatever,” Husk drawled, “as long as there’s booze.”

“I dunno,” Angel replied with a teasing smile, “sounds boring.”

“Boring!” Alastor exclaimed. “Drinking giggle water and dancing all night to a live band is not boring! It’s much more classy than those washed up ‘clubs’ you enjoy so much, and it most certainly has better company!”

“Well, I won’t say no to drinks as long as you’re payin’. But I ain’t gonna do any old-timey walzin’.”

“Angel, don’t forget that I lived through the best time for dance: the Charleston, the Foxtrot and the Lindy Hop among other fine dancing forms were all popular back in my day. In fact, I doubt you'd be able to keep up with me.”

“Is that a challenge, babe?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone who’s certified in providing first aid, I feel like it’s my responsibility to make some disclaimers on how the characters in this fic act in regards to handling an overdose.   
> These characters are not at risk of dying from drugs or treatment depicted in this fic, and they don’t have access to medical services, so do not emulate their actions.   
> If you are ever in a situation where you suspect someone is experiencing a drug overdose, do not attempt to restrain them. Immediately call emergency services; that should always be your first course of action. If the person is coherent, attempt to talk to them and find out what happened or when they used the drug. Write down symptoms and related events if you are able and tell this information to the dispatcher and the paramedics when they arrive.  
> If the person is having a seizure or is violent, attempt to remove any sharp or dangerous objects in their vicinity and give them space. Do not, under any circumstance, attempt to put anything into their mouth. There is no threat of someone swallowing their own tongue when experiencing a seizure (it is physically impossible unless the tongue has been cut off), and attempting to force objects into their mouth will risk injuring them or yourself and possibly result in the victim choking.   
> If they are unconscious and you are sure that there is no head or neck trauma, move them into the “recovery position” because if they vomit while lying on their back, they may choke. If you suspect head or neck trauma—if they fainted and hit their head, for instance, do not attempt to move them.  
> Do not give them any drugs of your own. You don’t know how different drugs may react to one another in a person’s system, and you and the victim may not know exactly what kind of drugs they have taken if it is an illegal substance as those do not follow standardized regulations and street sellers may mix substances and substitute others. Do not give the victim anything to eat or drink either.  
> Always contact emergency services immediately and follow their directions until help arrives. Never attempt to handle an overdose yourself as symptoms may include seizures, heart attack and coma which may result in death if professional emergency medical care is not provided.

**Author's Note:**

> I find the idea of a cannibal misunderstanding a sexual innuendo in a literal sense to be hilarious. 
> 
> This was going to be a one-shot when I thought it was only going to end up at 8,000 words, but it's almost finished and on its way to 20,000, so I've decided on dividing it up into 2 chapters instead.
> 
> Also: please remember to stick with friends, watch your drink and always have a safe way to get home from parties, bars and clubs. Don't assume that someone will be willing or capable of taking care of you if you drink excessively. Be responsible and stay safe.


End file.
